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Mira hesitated, then lowered her voice. “You could have told the truth, Your Highness. When Yuvraj accused you of plotting the recent attacks… and of keeping them apart in college. He blamed you for those.”

Suchitra remembered that confrontation, the anger and disappointment in her son’s eyes. But her silence had been deliberate.

Her mind went back to another charged confrontation that happened three months ago right after Ram and Sanjana’s unexpected visit. Suchitra had stormed into the private chambers of the Rewa family matriarch.

“You will not interfere again,” Suchitra warned, her voice cold with anger she rarely showed. “I sacrificed my own happiness for duty. But I will not let you destroy my children’s happiness.”

Rani Vasundhara Devi’s eyes had been equally cold. “That orphan girl your son loved was beneath the Devara legacy. I only did what was necessary for the bloodline.”

Suchitra’s hands had clenched into fists. “Necessary? You stole eight years of his life. He suffered, and so did she. All for your obsession with purity. If you try again, you will face consequences—publicly.”

Suchitra’s mother’s glare had been fierce, but Devi hadn’t wavered. She had spoken with the finality of both a maharani and a mother. “Ram is my son. Sanjana is his maharani. They are together now, and you will not touch them again.”

The memory faded, and Suchitra Devi looked back at the lamp flickering on her desk.

Her assistant lingered, waiting.

This time, Suchitra Devi’s lips curved again into a smile. “My eldest has found his happiness,” she said. “Now, it’s time to focus on my second-born.”

She tapped her pen lightly, her eyes gleaming with quiet determination. “And I hear,” she added, “that the bait has already been taken.”

THE END.